100 Days
by Drixxy
Summary: A series of short entries covering the time Ace and Aerrow spend in jail. Current Day: Orange. Updated daily.
1. Opposites

_100 Days_

The court ruled with unanimous decision: guilty of high treason. Both defendants walked out of the room through opposing doors, cuffed and guarded. Hatred burned in their eyes as their gazes locked for the last time. You could almost hear them shouting at one another; both remained silent.

_You did this to me… _The same thought rang through their minds.

Locked into separate ships, neither one had the opportunity to exact their revenge. The council made sure of it; they wanted the Atmos' two largest traitors alive and well to suffer through their fates.

Tossed into cells like pigs, they both lay there, awaiting what cruel fate had for them next.

Red eyes, burning with anger, gazed out across the hallway. The Dark Knight held no regrets over what he had done. He was happy to see his enemy suffer.

Green eyes backed themselves into a corner, lying against the cool stone floor. The leader was falling apart. He expected to come out of it a hero, not a Cyclonian ally. _Piper must hate me for what I've done…_

Dark Ace stood from where he lay, taking a seat against the wall, his shoulder rubbing against the iron bars. He felt like an animal. His knuckles ached from the takedown. How many guards did he kill before they had them in chains? Dark Ace had lost count after twelve.

Though the darkness, he searched for the boy, but found only a glimpse of orange as a ray of light hit the leg of his jumpsuit. He found himself happy to be dressed in black. _A fitting color._

"Are you happy, now?" Dark Ace called out to the former Storm Hawk.

Silence waved through the air as Aerrow lay on the ground.

"Of course you are," Ace returned. "This was all you've ever wanted."

_Day 1_


	2. Objection

_100 Days_

Dark Ace awoke, no more than three hours rest beneath him, surrounded by complete darkness. He rolled over in his cot, lifting his head to gaze into the cell across the way.

Aerrow had moved against the wall, hugging his legs tightly to his chest. The traitor could hear the boy quietly singing a song from Atmosia. Ace shook his head and turned over to face the wall. Not a moment later, he found himself sleepless and returned to his spot on the floor by the bars.

He listened closely to the boy, mouthing the lyrics as he remembered them. Ace whistled along until Aerrow ceased, readjusting his grip on his legs.

"How lucky am I?" Ace questioned seriously. "I get to spend the rest of my days locked in a cell directly across from the leader of the Storm Hawk Kiddies…"

"If you want to call it luck," Aerrow refused. "Leave me alone."

"Now, now, Storm Boy…" He rose to his feet, pacing within his cell. Dark Ace was not happy about being locked up by any means; but he could torment Aerrow,and that seemed worth it to him. "How does it feel to be a criminal, Aerrow? You've destroyed everything you've worked so hard to create, you've burned bridges with your little friend, Piper, and you've become an ally of Cyclonia in the eyes of the Council…"

Aerrow shot up to his feet, charging the iron bars. "I don't deserve this! I did nothing wrong!"

"That may be, Aerrow," he returned with a laugh, "but you're _far_ from innocent…"

_Day Two_


	3. Mealtime

_100 Days_

Sleep came easily to the two on their second night; they knew the day to follow was going to be hectic. As the morning light flooded the cells, prisoners awoke, thunderous shouting and hollering filling the cells. Ace found rest no longer accessible, and joined the living once more.

He tugged off his jumpsuit and waited by the bars in his shorts. Ace eyed his companion across the hall, laughing at the pathetic sight before him. "Chicken legs."

Aerrow's face pulled into disgust, scoffing at him. "You're really low, you know that?"

"S'my job… Kick 'em when they're down. You'll learn, Sky Knight."

Shoved into the showers and pelted with ice water, they were given three minutes—no more, no less- -to wash the grime from their skin. Another three minutes were given to redress before piling into the cafeteria.

Ace towered over the crowd, matching height with only a few of the other human inmates. He noted not only his height, but the others within his cell block. They all wore distinctive jumpsuits. Some orange, some blue, and only a rare few were black. Ace was among the few in black. He shook his head at the thought and found solace in knowing his assigned seat was far from Aerrow.

_For once_, he mused, _I don't have it in me to torture the punk._

Aerrow sat with his arms at his sides and refused to eat. The guard quickly noticed this and stepped up, shoving him over with his blade. "Boy, you better eat your food!"

Aerrow remained silent until the guard knocked him to the side once more. "Make me!" he spat. Not a moment later was the boy on the ground with the guards, and he fought back. Hard. Ace cheered and jeered, but he was the only one; that didn't stop him, however.

With a guard on each arm, the redhead was carried off to solitary, where he would spend the rest of the day.

_Day 3_


	4. Confrontation

_100 Days_

Shoved into the open air, Ace squinted with the bright light. His companion was nowhere to be seen. With a huff, he continued onward, making his way around the prison yard. With each step, people scattered away like soap and oil. He growled at their cowardess and unbuttoned his jumpsuit, tying his top-half around his waist.

While others kept busy, Ace enjoyed his time outside sitting on a bench _alone_. Here, he had time to think—and his thoughts trailed to those around him. Even here, inside a prison filled with the worst of the worst, they feared _him_ among the others. Ace smiled.

Across the courtyard, three rebels eyed Ace, quietly contemplating a plan of attack. They were all wearing blue jumpsuits, rags hanging out of each of their back pockets. He could see the group from the corner of his eye, but chose to ignore them.

"They don't look happy," Aerrow told him, showing up out of the blue.

Ace flinched. "Yeah, I don't really care! I took on the best Sky Knights around. I think I can handle a couple of _thugs_." With that, Aerrow returned to nursing his scrapes and broken nose.

As they approached him, Ace rubbed his knuckles, loosening up his joints. He knew they meant no good. He could see they were a filthy bunch—thick, masculine accents and they smelled of Vodka. He didn't appreciate the tone in their steps.

As one of the taller men reached back to take a swing, Ace stood up and swiftly knocked each one of them unconscious. All eyes were on him, but he didn't flinch. "I didn't like the way he looked at me," Ace told the crowd before returning to his seat on the bench. To him, it was just another day; nothing new.

_Day Four_


	5. Reasoning

_100 Days_

"Being connected to two fights doesn't look good, Mr. Jefferson." The warden looked over his file. He noted Ace sported no bruises, but it didn't seem to surprise him. "I have half a mind to toss you into solitary."

Ace sat in silence, his eyes locked on the warden. His hands rested on the chair's armrests, tied together with chains—his legs sat spread apart, his feet also bound together.

"Nothing to say for yourself, eh?" He sighed and closed the folder. "Tell me. How did we end up catching you, anyway?"

"Aerrow spoiled the surprise… You caught him aiding Cyclonia. I just happened to be at the wrong place at the right time and you overpowered me with an astonishing forty men." He never once showed emotion.

"Aerrow, eh? How did the Storm Hawk get involved with you?"

Then, he smiled. "I gave him an ultimatum… Told him I'd kill his precious girlfriend if he didn't help. He was obligated…"

The warden laughed quietly, shaking his head. "Eventually, even the best fall to evil… Just look what happened to Lightning Strike. Like father, like son. Teaming up with those damned Cyclonians."

Ace shot up from his seat and attempted to grab the man's neck, but his restraints kept him back. A snarl crept onto his face. "Get your facts straight! _I_ took him down! _I_ killed him!"

"Is that so? Hm. Good thing we've got you in black. Boys?" The guards stepped in as he waved, unchaining Ace from the chair.

The talon continued to struggle, shouting at his captors. "I _will_ kill you!" Ace growled, and was swiftly carried back to his cell.

_Day 5_


	6. Solitary

_100 Days_

A quiet song poured out against the cement walls, echoing around the room. The boy was alone, locked away by the guards. Here in solitary, he found refuge and time to think not only about his life now, but what he'd done to get there.

The room was entirely dark, warding off potential distractions. However, he found himself thinking of Piper, and wishing he'd handled the situation better. Had he not made himself a target, or done things without thoughts of the Council, would he be home on the Condor with her in his arms? Sure, in the end, he betrayed his entire team, but if he'd done a better job at hiding it at all, they would eventually see it his way.

_C'mon, Aerrow. Now you're beginning to sound like the Dark Ace. _Aerrow closed his eyes and lay on the cold cement floor. He wished he'd refused ace, and had more confidence in his ability to fight for the one he loved. Maybe the thought of losing scared him more than the thought of becoming a Talon? Aerrow denied that immediately; he was a Sky Knight and knew better than to simply accept such a horrible fate out of fear.

He knew better than to let death scare him off of his responsibilities.

But then, Aerrow realized the gravity of just what he'd done. Ace held no more threat to him that day than on any other day. Piper was safe on the ship, not captive within his grasp. For once, Aerrow had to consider the possibility that he'd fallen prey to the ways of Cyclonia, and wanted more from them than the life of Piper…

_Day 6_


	7. Piper

_100 Days - Sorry for the late-night update.  
_

"Oi, get up. You have a visitor."

Aerrow looked up, watching the guard. _Visitor?_ Who would want to see him? Surely he had burned every bridge when he agreed to work with Ace. The guard shackled him up and toted him around the prison, sitting him down in an empty room. While chaining him to the table, Aerrow thought of many ways to escape, but he told himself he would never stoop to Ace's level.

A loud buzzer went off and in walked a girl; she looked exhausted, tears silently pouring down her cheeks. She sat before Aerrow and broke down, crying louder now that she'd seen him.

He reached out for her hands. "Piper, I thought I'd lost you forever…"

She shook her head, sniffing in. "I was so worried… How could you do this to us?" She tore her hands from his, stuffing them into her lap. "You promised us this would never happen…"

Aerrow looked away. He knew he'd betrayed his entire team, and he could never fix what he'd done. "I… I was a pawn, Piper! He told me he would kill you if I didn't!"

Piper grew quiet, staring at him. "…How could you, Aerrow?"

Before he could answer, she began crying hysterically, shouting nonsense at him.

Aerrow examined his bonds before looking back at her. Suddenly, he lurched forward, kissing her, a chained hand on either side of her face. His busted nose screamed in pain, but he didn't care. He just wanted her to know. Then, the guards stomped in, pulling Aerrow back. "No! No, you can't do this to me!" Piper began to cry again, looking away from him.

"Enough of that, boy; its time to go." They were quick to unleash him and carry him away, but the fight that followed landed him in solitary once more.

_Day Seven_


	8. Propaganda

_100 Days_

"We want to know," Yurik said with a grin. "Tell us, how did you convince the Storm Hawk boy, hm?"

Ace, having befriended he so-called thugs, responded with a smile. "He treasured his girlfriend more than his loyalty!"

"How did it go down?" the smaller one asked.

Ace shrugged. "Cyclonis had bigger plans for the Atmos and it required a more powerful ally than our army alone… But to make an impact on those that do not yet fear us, we had to take down someone they looked up to, and I don't speak of Aerrow."

"What? So, you had him kill someone on the Sky Knights side, or what? No… From the Council?"

"Councilman James Pyre. _Elder_ Pyre," Ace clarified. "Aerrow was ballsier than I anticipated. It made me wonder if it was his first _murder_."

The boys' chatter fell to a hush, seeming a bit shocked. Ace wondered to whom their loyalties lie. They seemed saddened, but fearful as well.

"Don't worry, lads. The boy seems to enjoy solitary. Your asses are safe for another night."

Through Yurik's accent, Ace could hear the disappointment. "If Lightning Strike's boy could fall to such an evil, what is this world coming to?" His goons agreed, promptly looking at Ace.

With a furrowed brow, he knew it was a mistake to bed with the felons. He stood from his bench and confronted the three. He could feel the guards watching him, but what more could be added to his sentence? Suddenly, he acted, killing each one swiftly and mercilessly. The guards quickly piled in; Ace did not resist, but simply smiled, blood spatter on his cheeks.

_Day Eight_


	9. Management

_100 Days_

Time spent face-to-face with his compadre grew limited—not just because of the activities available outside of his cell, but due to the fact that the warden had him on a strict anger management regime. Should Ace not be kept busy, he was to visit an anger therapist, and express his disgust and lack of faith amongst a group of amateur psychopaths. Needless to say, they were out of his league.

With his jumpsuit tied around his waist and his legs spread lazily apart, Ace was clearly the most comfortable and careless person in the room. He kept his eyes off of the female therapist and locked onto the chains on his feet. He was—rightfully—the only person in the room chained down, but not the only one wearing black. "Hm," Ace huffed in disapproval. "This is stupid."

"Welcome to group, boys," the young woman began. "I know I've seen some of your faces before, but the majority of you are new. Who would like to start us off?"

Ace rolled his eyes. He visibly scratched at his crotch, readjusting with little regard to those around him.

The therapist laughed quietly in disbelief. "Okay… How about you?" she asked.

Ace looked up, examining the young woman. "How about no?"

"What's your name, hm? What makes you different?" She knew exactly who he was, but tried effortlessly to pry at his nerves.

"Ace," he responded dryly. "Anyone with a brain should know who I am."

"Now… Why are you here, Ace?" she asked curiously, her blue eyes watching him.

He leaned forward and rested against his knees, his chains jingling. "You really want to know? Okay…," he began, then cleared his throat. "I killed the world's only hope against Cyclonia and corrupted his son. I've killed hundreds of thousands of innocent bystanders _mercilessly_. I've become the greatest asset that Cyclonia has ever known. The Council apparently doesn't see things my way, so they locked me up." He remained leaning forward, watching her closely. She seemed slightly surprised, yet unmoved by his story. The lack of reaction bothered him.

"Good story! But what I meant was, why did they put you in Anger Management?"

_Day Nine_


	10. Alright

_100 Days – We're 1/10 of the way there_

Darkness surrounded the cells once more, and the noise died down. As Ace lay down to rest, he recalled how much he'd hated prison the last time he'd been locked up, but remembered how easily he'd escaped. He wondered why he hadn't tried to leave just yet, as tormenting as it had become. It seemed a mystery to him, but he knew it must've been for a good reason.

It couldn't have been that difficult. Sure, it was a maximum-security prison, but it was a Council prison, an easier lock to pick than a first-gen Sky Ride's ignition. For Ace it was cake, but the urge to leave escaped him, no pun intended. But when the day came, no matter how tired, broken, and weak he'd become, leaving wouldn't be an issue. Leaving _alone_, however, would be another story. For now, he decided to call his cell _home_.

Behind his closed eyes, he could see himself down two separate paths: the first, where he lived a life of crime, standing rightfully beside Master Cyclonis as a leader of the new world they would create together; the second, where he lived a life of justice, governed by strict rules, "One mistake and we'll lock you up," where he stood beside Striker as the co-pilot of the infamous Storm Hawks. He wondered just which life was more satisfying; "Good," or "Evil"?

As Ace fell past the brink of sleeplessness, Aerrow suffled about, walking toward his sink. He tried to ignore the boy, but it became impossible as he spoke, "D-do… do you think I'm a good person?"

Begrudgingly, he opened his eyes as the boys words registered. Ace groaned and replied, "If there were an award for goody-two-shoed people like, oh, I don't know, your father, you'd win first place," Ace laughed, rolling over.

He scoffed, shaking his head. "I'm serious. Do you think I'm a good person?"

After a moment of contemplation, he replied, "You're alright, kid."

_Day Ten_


	11. Orange

_100 Days_

The night before, Aerrow had grown sleepless, falling back into his routine of insomnia. His dilemma didn't matter, though; the guards would still wake them all up at 7 o'clock on the dot, and nothing made him any different from the others.

As the sun rose, Aerrow was wide awake, staring at himself in his chipped and degraded mirror. His cell was nothing like the room hi inhabited on the Condor; he would give just about anything to be back home. He said to himself, at the end of his sentence, he would go home, should anyone take him back, and lead a more solitary and quite life. He would la low and never get mixed up in the crap that he had, but should Ace ever be released, he would make Aerrow's fresh start rather difficult.

He wanted to make a life that _he_ wanted, and not one he was thrust into after his father's death. Ace was a constant nagging reminder of what happened so many years ago. For once, he wanted to live on his own, hold down a job that he depended on to live, manage friendships and girlfriends instead of co-workers and comrades, and own a home in the future. As a Storm Hawk, a life like that was stripped from him—he would never be allowed to be fully content with his life.

Aerrow grew anxious. His life may have been filled with wondrous and selfless deeds, but inside, he was selfish, and he wondered why he settled on such an unsatisfying lifestyle. Aerrow watched the guard step up toward his cell. He spoke quietly, "Guard, I know it hasn't been long at all, but do you know how long my sentence is?"

The guard watched him closely. "It's only been eleven days for you, kid."

"Y-yeah, so?" Aerrow stuttered. "How much longer?" He gripped the bars.

He laughed in disbelief. "Boy, you're wearing orange. You're in here for life."

_Day Eleven_


End file.
